


Recurring Reavers

by Nicxan



Category: System Shock (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Nightmares, Sort-of Character Death (in the nightmare), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: It's been a few years since the incident on Citadel Station.Nightmares weren't supposed to affect him anymore.





	Recurring Reavers

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 25th Anniversary, System Shock 1!!! Wow I managed to get this done under the wire, Jesus. 
> 
> Thanks to GrinningCheshire for the title; I was totally stuck.

It had been another rough night.  
  
The Hacker didn’t like admitting to that anymore. It had been a long few years since the incident on Citadel -- more than long enough for the worst of this to be over. Nightmares shouldn’t have shaken him anymore; hell, they shouldn’t even be _ happening _ anymore.  
  
Right?  
  
He tried to ignore the fact that he was on the verge of a panic attack. His breathing was normal. His shaky palms _ weren’t _ normal, but that was just from lack of food. A microwaved burrito would fix that; it would go away. It could all be pushed back. It could be forced down. All he needed to do was chill a while before working, and he’d be okay.  
  
He had to be.  
  
The microwave beeped harshly. The Hacker almost jumped through the roof, and he hurried over to shut it off. The implant came in handy sometimes; at least he still had his ‘skates’ so he could get there faster to turn it off.  
  
The plate was hot, but the burrito was cold. It would have to do.  
  
The Hacker took the plate, ignoring how it was burning his hand, and dragged himself over towards the ‘living room’. He barely had time to set down everything before another wave of nausea washed over him.  
  
The Hacker groaned -- partially in frustration, partially in agony -- before sitting down. ‘_It’s not going away. Why isn’t it going away? _ ’ Ignoring all of it always made it go away. Well, almost always, apparently.  
  
‘_Shit._’  
  
He sat for a moment, staring up at his ceiling blankly. He tried to will himself to space out, but oddly enough, focusing on spacing out made it really difficult to actually space out. ‘_Fuck, fuck, _ fuck_! _ ’  
  
The Hacker wasn’t sure how long he had sat there. He wasn’t even sure when he sent out a transmission to Rebecca. He only realized he had done it once he heard ringing in his neural implant.  
  
Normally, she called him. It had been a year since they last spoke, though. ‘_Maybe she’s too busy_,’ the Hacker thought. The idea filled him with dread, yet there was also a spark of hope. If she didn’t answer, he wouldn’t have to face this at all. He could bury it again.  
  
Much to his shock either way, she had picked up.  
  
“_Hacker? Is that you? _ ”  
  
The Hacker didn’t respond immediately; he still felt gobsmacked over the fact that he could actually hear her voice again. Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Hey, Rebecca. Long time no talk.”  
  
“_You sound terrible. _ ” The Hacker couldn’t help but snort. She always managed to cut through his bullshit. ‘_What a gift to have._’  
  
“Uh, yeah. Probably a good reason for that.” He took a bite of his burrito and flopped back on his couch, tucking an arm behind his head. The pillow seemed to be lumpier than usual. Maybe he should get a new one. Or maybe he was just trying to fill up his head with bullshit to not have to hear Rebecca ask him what’s wrong.  
  
Which didn’t work very well, but no one could blame him for trying.  
  
“_If you want to tell me what happened, now’s the time. I can sneak away for a few minutes._” The Hacker heard a door open on her side of the call, and then silence. Rebecca let out a sigh just before that same door (presumably) shut. “_Listen, Hacker. I’m going to be very honest with you. I’m shocked you called at all. You’ve never really opened up about much. Especially about this._”  
  
“Good reason for that, too. You wouldn’t want to talk about this bullshit if you went through it.”  
  
“_Most likely not,_” Rebecca conceded. He heard her grumble underneath her breath. “_But it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t, if I were in your place. If you keep that in, it’s not going to be good for you. I keep telling you to get therapy -- _ ”  
  
“Yeah, remember the last time I tried that? Fucker tried to sell me out. No thanks.”  
  
This time, Rebecca’s sigh sounded frustrated. The Hacker shrank a little bit, almost feeling like a scolded child. Something about Rebecca’s no-nonsense attitude just made him feel immature for even daring to be a snarky bastard.  
  
Maybe it was time to cut the crap.  
  
“... Had another nightmare last night,” he mumbled. “It was, uh ... a really shitty one. Really bad. It actually woke me up. They haven’t done that in a while.”  
  
“_Must have been bad, then. Remember the deep breathing tricks I sent you, Hacker. Try that when you wake up next time. What happened? _ ”  
  
“You remember those Cortex Reavers, right?” Just saying their names almost made the Hacker feel sick again. Just uttering that made it feel like one of them was going to break into his apartment right then and just eviscerate him. Irrational as it may be, the thought still made the Hacker shake. His voice quivered as he continued. “It was about them.”  
  
“_No wonder you’re shaken up so badly, then._”  
  
“Y-Yeah.” The Hacker swallowed nervously. He hated hearing his voice shake like this. It made him sound so damn pathetic. “I was on the ... Flight Deck, I think it was. You know, where ...”  
  
“_Yes, I know._”  
  
The Hacker pushed the thought of the mangled bodies of the other survivors. Even imagining it made him smell the blood and singed human meat all over again. He nearly gagged when taking another bite of the burrito; all he wanted to do was just throw it out.  
  
But he shouldn’t. He _ knew _he shouldn’t. Fuck, why was it so hard to fucking _ eat_?  
  
“I was going through that again, getting to them, you know. And, I saw the Cortex Reaver there, like it was before. And ... you know the body that hung from it, right?”  
  
“_Yes._”  
  
“It was my body in there.” The Hacker’s voice broke. He bit his quivering lower lip to try and hide his crying. “It was -- the purple jumpsuit. The one I got stuck in while I was there. It was fucking trying to -- it was trying to get to me. It saw me before I meant it to, and it charged over. My own damn _ body _ dangled there --”  
  
“_Hacker --_”  
  
“And I could see it, and I could see that my _ goddamn body _ was fucking lifeless -- Jesus _ Christ _ \--” He felt the moment he broke - like a tangible internal crack. The Hacker began to openly sob. He tried to muffle it by burying his face into the pathetically lumpy pillow, but it only made him that much more uncomfortable.  
  
“I died to one of those things, man. I fucking died, I remember dying, and -- for god’s sake, is that what would’ve happened to me, Rebecca? Would I would’ve been one of those things?”  
  
“_Is there any point to wondering about that? _ ” Rebecca’s answer was instant, firm, and blunt. Nothing had changed at all; maybe that was a good thing in this case. “_You’re here now, and you’re not ‘one of those things’, as you put it. It was a bad dream, yes, but it’s not reality._”  
  
“I know.” It sounded so stupid and simple when Rebecca put it like that. He wasn’t sure if it helped or just made it worse. “It just fucking scares me. I don’t ...”  
  
Rebecca cut in. “_It would scare anyone. You went through hell on that station, Hacker. I’m shocked you’re doing as well as you are. From what little I’ve heard from you, at least._”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to call more.” The Hacker huffed face-down in the pillow. It didn’t do much to help his comfort level. “Let me guess, you’re going to tell me to find another professional that won’t sell me out, right? Because I can’t hold back this shit anymore or something?”  
  
“_Yes. _ ” How predictable. ‘_It’s almost like she told me that dozens of times,_’ the Hacker thought irritably.  
  
“But I’ve been fine. You just told me that.”  
  
“_Don’t misunderstand me, Hacker. You’re doing well _ as you are_: without therapy and without actually trying to face any of it. Frankly? Objectively? You’re a disaster right now._”  
  
“Christ, do you have to say it like that?” The Hacker forced a laugh. It didn’t work well; even his laughter sounded strained and exhausted. “Makin’ me feel like it’s a lost cause.”  
  
“_Then change something about what you have going on right now. Listen to me, Hacker - I can’t stay much longer, but you called me for help. You just proved you can reach out for help. For god’s sake, do yourself a favor and just do this again, with someone trained to handle this. I’ll even find someone who won’t try to sell you out._”  
  
The Hacker didn’t reply right away.  
  
Reaching out to Rebecca was one thing. She was there - she _got it._ Opening up to someone who wasn’t involved in Citadel, and couldn’t totally understand? The idea was daunting, and she had just taken away his only excuse not to find someone.  
  
He really was out of options at this point. Fighting near-constant nausea, trembling and shaking from vivid nightmares, jumping at sudden noises, feeling constantly exhausted ... no, none of it was normal at all.  
  
Maybe he did need extra help to make all the bullshit less ... _ bullshit_.  
  
He heard some chatter on her side of the call again, then frowned. They probably noticed she had sneaked away by now. ‘_Goddamn it._’  
  
“... If I do take you up on that, you won’t call me a disaster again, right?”  
  
“_If it gives you a kick in the ass, I really can’t make that promise. _ ” The Hacker snorted, then sat up from the pillow. He took a second to wipe off the tear stains on his face. “ _ Do you promise you’ll go to them and not waste my time?_”  
  
“It’s one thing if I waste _ my _ time. It’s another thing if I waste _ yours_. You barely have any fucking time to waste in the first place.”  
  
“_Exactly._”  
  
“... Thanks, Rebecca.”  
  
“_My pleasure. You’re not the only one who needed therapy after Citadel. _ ” Someone called her name - the Hacker could hear it plain as day. “_Damn - have to go. I’ll send you that information when I can._”  
  
The Hacker didn’t have a chance to reply before the line went dead.  
  
While the nausea was there, it didn’t seem nearly as bad as before. Maybe things weren’t as bad when he had a plan in place -- when he had someone he could count on.  
  
It felt dangerously close to how he was on Citadel, but ... what worked, worked. For now, at least.  
  
Right?  
  
Right.


End file.
